


first date

by nightbirdrises



Series: Sinking 'verse [8]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:26:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2369318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbirdrises/pseuds/nightbirdrises
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's like one of those movies."</p>
            </blockquote>





	first date

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for this segment: none
> 
> You can read Sinking in chronological order using [this page](http://princehummel.tumblr.com/sinking), or you can read it in the order of events as I wrote them [here](http://princehummel.tumblr.com/tagged/v%3A+sinking/chrono).

Blaine had had his doubts about going out for an actual date with Kurt and not just a trip to Scandals or a quick, quiet hour spent conversing and kissing in his room until his mom knocked on the door. After all, neither of them were willing to announce their (still very new) relationship to the world, and it wasn’t as though one of the Skanks and a football player was a socially accepted combination.

There was also the matter of Kurt himself and his… unorthodox appearance, which tended to draw attention from everyone in the vicinity — staring is a bit of a distraction when one is trying to focus on not making a fool out of himself. 

But then an idea came to Blaine during dinner with his parents one night, in the middle of a conversation about Cooper’s latest failed dating scheme. Apparently he had tried to reenact the golf club picnic scene from High School Musical, leading to a potential lawsuit and a disgruntled blonde. Blaine had smiled to himself as he delicately cut into his steak, his imagination spinning.

Now, he was standing at the top of a small, isolated hill just outside Lima, pacing nervously. What if Kurt didn’t like the idea? What if he wasn’t the type to enjoy this kind of date? And, of course, the question that was almost always lingering at the back of his skull — what if this wasn’t as serious as Blaine thought, and he was just someone for Kurt to kiss and, eventually, fuck? He glanced towards the somewhat-distant rows of houses, shivered; it was colder than he’d expected.

He heard the crack of a twig being stepped on and spun around to see Kurt making his way towards him, fingers twirling an unlit cigarette and backpack slung over one shoulder. Blaine grinned despite his thoughts and held out his hand. Kurt took it with a raised eyebrow and let Blaine lead him to the little setup in the grass — a plain navy blanket scattered with various kinds of food. Sitting in the middle was a sheet of paper that read,  _I don’t know what you like, so I brought a little of everything. I thought we could have an honest-to-god date, if that’s okay?_

Kurt stared at it for a while, Blaine biting his lip anxiously as he waited for a response of some kind, any kind.

"It’s like one of those movies," Kurt said quietly, and Blaine took in a breath, unsure yet if that was meant to be a good thing. "Where did you even come from?"

Blaine spluttered, completely lost now, as Kurt rounded on him. “I—” Kurt chuckled, letting go of Blaine’s hand to unzip his backpack and pull out the dry-erase board.

 _I mean that this is the kind of thing that I used to dream about_ , he wrote haltingly, one word after another, step by step.  _A romantic, sunset dinner… it’s the stuff of dreams, not reality. You might as well have dropped right out of a sickeningly sweet rom-com._

"Is that a bad thing?" Blaine mouthed, and Kurt shook his head.

 _Don’t tell Q, but that silly romantic is still there underneath all the hair dye_ , he added, shrugging. _He’s just a bit jaded now, that’s all._

Blaine smiled then, gesturing for Kurt to follow suit as he sat down on the blanket. He noticed that Kurt’s hand went straight to the tiny container of honey that he’d brought, and stored that in his mind for future reference. He watched as Kurt pulled a roll of bread into two pieces and drizzled honey on each, shaking a loose strand of pink-dyed hair out of his face instinctively.

"What?" Kurt mumbled a few moments later, his mouth full, and Blaine ducked sheepishly to look at the ground — he hadn’t realized that he had been staring so intently. Kurt tilted his head, frowning, his cheeks puffed out slightly. Blaine hadn’t really thought of Kurt as adorable before, but there it was, and he just shook his head as he tried not to smile too widely.

They ate in peaceful silence, the sun setting slowly somewhere behind Kurt. Blaine panicked as he realized that Kurt wouldn’t be able to lip-read (or just read, for that matter) as well in the dark, and he hadn’t brought a light or a candle or anything how  _stupid_  of him—

"You okay?" Blaine looked up at Kurt, caught speechless at the way he looked in the fading sunlight. "You’ve been staring at the ketchup like it personally offended you or something."

Kurt held the board out to Blaine expectantly then, and he took it, wrote,  _I didn’t bring a light or anything, will it be too hard to talk in the dark?_

Once Kurt read it, he smiled softly. Blaine wished, not for the first time, that he could read thoughts. Not just anyone’s thoughts, but the thoughts of the boy in front of him, with an aura of mystery that surrounded him as effectively as thick fog on a dark, stormy summer evening.

Before he knew it, Kurt was shoving aside the plates and moving to sit close to Blaine, their arms brushing. He leaned into Blaine’s ear and whispered, “Do we really have to talk?”

Blaine swallowed, shook his head, and almost jumped as Kurt’s hand ran up his arm lightly, over the gooseflesh that had set in from the autumn chill.

"You’re cold," Kurt said simply. Blaine shrugged, hoping to communicate that he didn’t really mind. "Here."

Kurt pulled off his dark grey zip-up hoodie and, before Blaine could protest, draped it around his shoulders. It had a distinct scent of cigarette smoke, along with that smell of  _him_  that Blaine so loved. He leaned tentatively into Kurt’s shoulder after pulling the shirt on fully, wondering if he was overstepping yet; things were so much different with Kurt than with past Dalton guys that he never knew for sure. Apparently not, as he felt a returning pressure against his arm.

Then pressure against his opposite shoulder, his eyelids slipping shut as Kurt urged him down to the grass with one hand, his other rucking up Blaine’s shirt at the waist to hold it gently, the careful touch against his skin both shocking and calming.

Lips on his, tasting of honey and Kurt and moving slowly, a thumb rubbing absently at his waist and Blaine could no longer tell that it was a night in October — for all he knew, or cared, it was the middle of July and fireworks were bursting above them rather than an empty expanse of stars; it was January and they were huddled in the snow, ignoring how their clothes were getting soaked; it was April, rain falling gently, sporadically, pulling Blaine’s hair out of the grip of gel just as surely as Kurt’s hand.

Which, in the reality of October, was nowhere near his hair, but fisted in the sweatshirt that wasn’t his as the kiss lingered into each following minute without deepening. That is, not until Blaine propped himself up on one elbow to kiss back, hard; Kurt smirked against his mouth and pulled away. After a few seconds, Blaine realized he wasn’t coming back and opened his eyes to see Kurt sitting cross-legged next to him, watching the last of the sun disappear over the edge of the horizon.

Blaine tugged at Kurt’s T-shirt, giving him an exaggerated pout when Kurt turned to look at him.

"Oh, don’t give me that," Kurt said, rolling his eyes as he stood up. He held his hand out to Blaine, who let himself be pulled to his feet, grudgingly. Then Kurt gathered up the board, putting it in his backpack before slinging the bag back over his shoulder.

Blaine furrowed his brows as he watched, worried that he’d done something wrong. Maybe he had stepped over a line, somehow. But then Kurt was crowding into his space again, lips brushing teasingly against his jawline. Gooseflesh tingled up his arm again, but it had nothing to do with the cold.

"You of all people should know that you don’t go too far on a first date," Kurt said softly, and Blaine’s heart jumped in his chest. "Text me later, okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Blaine breathed without thinking, but Kurt must have sensed it somehow as he smiled, backing up.

"Mm. Thank you for this. I’ll see you at school. Oh, and Blaine?" Blaine caught Kurt’s gaze directly, imagining the hues of his eyes despite being too far away to see them clearly. "Keep the shirt. It’s hot."

Giving a little wave, Kurt started down the hill to who-knows-where, leaving Blaine to stare up at the stars and wonder how the hell this even happened in the first place. It was so unlikely, someone like him and someone like Kurt, yet it seemed right. Of course, Blaine knew as well as anyone that high school relationships are fickle, but he had hope for this time around.

He’d already sunk, and planned to hold his breath for as long as it would take. He hoped that he’d have reason to keep holding on months, maybe even years from now — he didn’t mind which, yet, only wanted to make sure that this, whatever it was or would be, lasted.


End file.
